The Writers Have the Phonebox
by Eva Sirico
Summary: Natalie was a normal person living an equally normal, boring life. On the first day of summer, while working at her job at the bookstore, she meets a certain consulting detective and his blogger, and they need her help. Natalie is pulled into a world of Impalas, a phone box called the TARDIS, a place called 221-B Baker Street, and demons running amok in Parliament. Superwholock!
1. A Legend to Be

**Disclaimer: I do not own any shows mentioned.**

* * *

**Chapter 1 - A Legend to Be**

It was a very normal morning, if I do say so myself. My tiger cat Mufasa was curled up sleeping on the couch as I readied myself to go work in the bookstore. Today was the first day free of classes from the nearby college, and I was spending it at my favorite place – Richard's Bookstore.

"See you later, Mufasa!" I called cheerfully. Mufasa simply flicked an ear and grumpily ignored me as I finished tying up my pair of converse. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I left my flat, locking it behind me.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, white fluffy clouds were on the horizon, and different people in London were out and about. I hurried down the street, not wanting to be late, and soon I arrived outside of the book store.

Richard waved at me as soon as I walked into the store. "Good morning, Natalie!"

"Morning, Richard," I greeted him as I hung my bag in the back room. "How are you today?"

"Still young!" Richard joked as he pushed a stack of books towards me. "These just came in this morning. Please put them away and then you can tend to the customers."

"Will do," I replied to my boss, gingerly picking up the stack of books. Walking through the narrow aisles, I put the books in their respective places before walking back to the counter.

The day passed in this manner, and business was unusually slow. Soon I found myself buried in a copy of _The Great Gatsby,_ dismissing the world in favour of wondrous parties, rampant emotions, and the folly of the wealthy in the good ol' Jazz Age in America...

"Excuse me," an indifferent voice said. I immediately set down my book and looked up. A tall man stood in front of me with rather curly dark hair, and clear blue eyes. He was wearing a coat with the collar turned up. Beside him was a shorter man, with crew-cut light hair and a lined face, as if he's seen things that no one should see.

"How can I help you?" I asked.

"You are Natalie...correct?" the first man said.

I nodded, a little confused. "Yes, that's me. Why?"

"We need your help," he said shortly. "The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221-B Baker Street. This is John Watson."

"Nice to meet you," I said slowly, confused.

John stepped in. "What he means is, we've been told to come see you. We need your help on a case we're currently working on."

"A case?" I paused. "Are you two with the police."

"I'm a consulting detective, and this is my partner," Sherlock clarified. "We already have experts working on the case. They call themselves 'Team Free Will'..."

"Don't forget the Doctor," John reminded Sherlock.

"If you already have experts, then why do you need me?" I asked. "What help could I possibly give?"

Sherlock paused, and a gleam appeared in his eyes. "I know that you're a college student, just finished finals with pretty standard grades. You live alone with a small animal, possibly a dog, more likely a cat judging by the hairs found on your shirt. You speak with a hint of an American accent, so you moved to London for college and have been here for a couple years, though you haven't lost your native way of speaking. That shows that you're still in touch with and on good terms with family or friends back in America...most likely northern New England. You are working on doing something with literature, probably a form of writing going by the ink stains on the side of yours hands from where you scrawled with a blue pen in a notebook. I can tell all of this and more from your appearance alone, so I think that you'll be more than enough help in this situation."

My jaw had dropped and now I struggled to remember how to close it. Sherlock simply smirked and turned away, flipping his coat collar up.

"We'll be in touch."

He left the shop, and John awkwardly hesitated for a moment.

"Is he always like that?" I asked, breaking through the silence that descended in the shop.

John nodded. "Yeah. He's always like that." He gave me a crooked smile. "See you later, Natalie."

"Bye." I watched him leave the shop, still in shock.

What just happened?

* * *

"And they said they were police officers?" my brother Cal asked in disbelief. I sat in my flat later that day, recounting the strange meeting.

"No, Sherlock said they were consulting detectives. They said they needed my help in a case they were working on. They just said they'd be in touch..."

"You're studying English Literature," Cal said dryly. "I don't know of how much use you'd be to them."

"I know." I played with Mufasa's tail and he glared at me, annoyed. "I'd still like to be of any help I could, though."

"Why don't you make sure that they're really who they say they are?" Cal suggested. "If they really are 'consulting detectives', then go for it! Help them out! You're always reading about some fantastical adventure, so why not experience one yourself?"

I smiled fondly, imagining my older brother sitting in his music room surrounded by his instruments. Being a percussionist in a local orchestra meant he practiced all the time. "Alright. Sounds good, Cal."

"I have to go. It's pretty late, and I have rehearsal tomorrow morning. Good night, Nat!"

I smiled. "Bye, Cal."

As soon as he hung up, I reached for my laptop and logged onto the Internet. Looking up Sherlock Holmes, I found his website, the Science of Deduction. I also found a link to John Watson's blog. Sighing, I clicked out and shut my laptop down, putting it next to my cat. They were legitimate. But the question still stood; why did they need me?

* * *

Two days passed since I met Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. I hadn't heard a single word from them since, so I continued life as normal. Friday night found me sitting in my flat, eating soup and watching a very bad sitcom.

My phone buzzed. Flipping it open, my eyes widened at the message.

_I am outside with John. If convenient, please come out. If inconveneint, come anyway. -SH._

I sat there processing that for a moment before my phone buzzed again.

_P.S. Could be dangerous._

What? How did he get my number? Different thoughts swirled around in my head, but I just sat there, staring at the phone screen until it went dark. What do I do?

Cal's voice floated to the front of my mind. _You're always reading about some fantastical adventure, so why not experience one yourself?_

They said they were consulting detectives... And that they needed my help... I took a deep breath. I was a poor college student. I didn't know how much help I could be, but I would try anyway.

I jumped off of the couch and slipped on my converse sneakers. Throwing on a light, black jacket and turning off the lights, I exited my flat and walked outside. The sun was sinking into the horizon above the buildings, and there weren't many people on the streets.

What I did notice as soon as I left the building was the cool-looking car parked right outside of the apartment building. I didn't know cars very well, but that was an amazing looking car. As soon as I walked outside, the driver climbed out of it. He was well-built and wore a dark green shirt with short hair.

"You must be Natalie," he said with a charming smile. "Dean Winchester."

"Hi." I shook his hand that he offered as another guy came up to us. This one was a giant, with shaggy brown hair but a kind face.

"I'm Sam, Dean's brother," he told me. "Sherlock and John stopped at the store next door to ask the owner something, but they should be right out."

"Thanks," I said softly, standing around awkwardly. "Umm...so if you don't mind me asking, what's the case that I'm going to help with?"

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. "Well, we'll talk about that once we get back to the diner," Sam told me.

Before I had a chance to respond, Sherlock and John appeared, John holding a package. "Good. You're here. Let's go," Sherlock said shortly before climbing into the backseat of the car. John motioned for me to go next as Sam and Dean climbed into the front seats.

Dean took off through London as I was squished between John and Sherlock in the back seats. ACDC was playing softly through the speakers, just loud enough to be heard. It was silent for a while, before I broke it. "What kind of car is this?"

Dean grinned. "It's a '67 Chevy Impala. My dad bought it a long time ago."

"Only because you prompted him to," Sherlock mumbled from on my right.

Dean didn't say anything, but simply turned up the music, jamming out to it as we shot through the city at a speed I wasn't too sure was legal. No more conversation was made, and I was stuck sitting uncomfortably between a silent consulting detective and an equally uncomfortable John.

The ride, thankfully, was rather short. We parked in front of a place called Speedy's on Baker street. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn't think of a reason why. As if sensing what I was thinking, Sherlock said, "We live at 221, right next door." It clicked in my mind. Right. He mentioned that in the shop...

We all climbed out of the Impala and walked into Speedy's. Dean and Sam immediately walked over to a table where a confused-looking guy in a tan trenchcoat was waiting. Another guy in a black leather jacket and rather large ears was standing around but grinned when he saw me and strode forward.

"Fantastic to meet you, Natalie! I'm the Doctor," he said cheerfully, shaking my hand.

"Nice to meet you too. Doctor Who?" I asked, confused but happy that everyone was being so friendly.

He chuckled as if remembering an inside joke. "Just the Doctor."

"Are we ready to start now?" an irritated voice rang out.

Well, almost everybody.

I peeked around the Doctor to see a sulky-looking man twirl an umbrella around in his hand, staring at me. Abruptly he stood up. "You must be Natalie. You hardly seem like the person for the job, and I should know. I've been keeping tabs on your for a while."

My jaw dropped slightly. "What?"

"This is Mycroft Holmes," John quickly interceded. "He works at the British government."

"Practically runs it while he's not running the British Secrert Service or doing favours for the CIA," Sherlock mumbled under his breath. Mycroft glared at him.

"Right. Well, we have a bit of a problem," Mycroft said, turning his attention back to me.

"You might want to sit down," Dean added helpfully. Beyond confused, I took a seat that the Doctor nudged over to me.

"Demons have infiltrated Parliament and are taking control of the different leaders," Sam said. "Sherlock suggested that Dean and I help out, and the Doctor was dropping by for a look and decided to lend his expertise."

I sat there silently, what Sam just said not registering in my brain. Dean blinked. "Did you hear us? You know, demons are real, and so are angels?"

"Angels?" I asked weakly.

"Cas here is living proof." Dean proudly gestured to the man in the tan trenchcoat, who had been silent up to this point. He nodded at me, and I waved back weakly.

"But the weeping angels are not as friendly as Castiel here, just bear in mind," the Doctor chirped.

"I still say that it's nothing a little salt won't cure," Dean said arguably with a charming smile on his face.

"But we digress," Mycroft said in irritation. "We need to get back to the problem at hand."

"So. Wait. There is legitimately demons and angels running around?" I protested. "Why... _how..._"

Mycroft sighed impatiently as Dean said, "Don't forget the ghosts, vampires, and spirits that we hunt."

"Ghosts?" My jaw dropped. These people were crazy.

"Dean and I are hunters, and Castiel just tags along sometimes," Sam explained softly.

"You look confused," Castiel noted, speaking for the first time since I entered the room.

"Yeah. Just a bit," I muttered. "This is...unreal..."

"Bread?" Sherlock asked nonchalantly, waving a loaf of bread underneath my nose. "Your neighborhood baker Peeta sent this along. He couldn't make it to this meeting, unfortuantely."

"I need a moment, guys," I said, ignoring the bread. "How do I know what you're saying is the truth?"

There was silence for a moment. "Castiel, you're the angel," John said. "Just show her your wings."

"No can do," Dean replied, shaking his head. "Not after what happened last time Cas used his angel mojo."

The Doctor walked in front of me and knelt down. "You're going to have to trust us," he said solemnly, staring at me. "Can you do that? Trust us?"

Staring into his eyes, I felt like I was talking to someone way older and wiser than anyone that I knew. It felt like he had seen different civilizations rise and fall, and had been there to witness every single one...

"Yes," I said simply.

The Doctor grinned. "Fantastic! Now, just one final question. What prompted you to walk out your door and come with people that you know next-to-nothing about?"

I suddenly felt small as all eyes turned to me, waiting for an answer.

"I wanted an adventure," I replied meekly.

The Doctor's huge grin grew even wider, and I saw similar smiles on Dean, Sam, and John's faces. "Well, an adventure you will have, Natalie! You're a legend to be!"

* * *

A/N

Hello and welcome to my story! This will be a SuperWhoLockPotterGames fanfiction with a dash of Avengers, a sprinkle of Batman, and maybe a pinch of Big Bang Theory :) There will be so much to work with, so many adventures to have, and a lot of character development to delve into.

Anyway, be a dear and drop a review :) Hope to see you in Chapter 2!

~Eva Sirico~


	2. Strange Meetings

**Disclaimer: I do not own any shows mentioned**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

**Strange Meetings**

"Err.. Enlighten me," I said as we walked down the street. "Why are we going to a tattoo parlour again?"

"To have Mycroft get an anti-possession tattoo," Dean explained, slowing to walk next to me. "It'll make sure that no demons will be able to possess him while he has that tattoo. We don't want the most powerful man in Britain to be controlled by a demon."

"I am not the most powerful man in Britain," Mycroft replied, irate. "I still think this is a ridiculous idea. I just need to be careful."

"The Winchesters are right," the Doctor told him. "It's better safe than sorry."

"Do you need one, Doc?" Dean asked as he opened the door to the tattoo parlour.

The Doctor chuckled. "I don't. No demon will be able to possess this body."

"Why's that?" I asked curiously, settling myself into a chair as Dean talked to the guy behind the counter, showing him his matching tattoos. It looked like a star in the middle of a sun...

The Doctor sat down in the chair next to me. "I'm not exactly human. That's why," he replied cheerfully.

I stared at him, then looked away. "Okay. Not surprised. I mean, demons and angels are real, so why not aliens?" I muttered to myself.

"It gets better," he assured me, a grin on his face. "I travel through time and space in the TARDIS."

"The what-now?"

"TARDIS. Time and relative dimension in space." He shrugged. "It's disguised as a police call box right now. Well, it always looks like that. Not that I'm complaining!"

"Your space ship is a phonebox," I said slowly.

The Doctor considered for a moment. "Well, yeah!"

"This day cannot get any stranger," I said to myself rubbing my head. I could feel the oncomings of a headache...

"Well, sweetheart, you already know that Cas is an angel," Dean said, coming to sit down on my other side. "The Doctor is a Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey. Sam, Sherlock, John, and I are just plain humans, so don't worry."

"That's reassuring," I muttered under my breath, watching as a disgruntled Mycroft was seated in a chair and the man start to get his equipment out. There was silence for a little bit before I glanced between my two companions. "So...with our little problem in Parliament, what are we going to do?"

Dean frowned for a second. "I'm not sure yet. We need to figure out whose behind it. It'll take forever if we go around trying to exorcise every Parliament member we come across."

"Well, how do we do that?" I asked, glancing away from Mycroft as the man started the design.

"We watch. We listen. And we wait." The Doctor shrugged. "Not much else we can do." He flashed a crooked smile at me. "Looks like you'll be hanging out with us for a while."

I contemplated that for a moment. Really, it hadn't been that bad. I was actually starting to believe them about the whole angels walking around in trenchcoats, aliens having large ears and a goofy smile, and demons infesting Parliament members. Seriously, what's so bad about that kind of life? It was an adventure so far, and I was having fun.

A small smile stole across my face. "That doesn't sound too bad."

Dean and the Doctor both looked at me. While Dean looked surprised, the Doctor grinned, as if he guessed my thoughts. "Fantastic!" he said. "We'll make a legend out of you, yet!"

"Why me, though?" I asked curiously. "Who recommended me? And why?"

"Oh, you don't know?" Dean asked, blinking. "It was-"

"Not the time for you to know," the Doctor interceded, shooting Dean a look. "Trust me, you'll find out, but not right now."

I couldn't help feel a little annoyed at that, but I accepted the fact that the Doctor was a 900 year old Time Lord and probably knew a bit more than I did. Time stretched on, and the conversation soon turned to Dean's family. He explained how he and his brother came to be hunters, and told us a bit of how they met Cas.

Although the story was rather sad, Dean still made light of it, and I found myself growing to like the charming hunter. I could see that he was hurting inside, but I knew it wasn't up to me to fix him.

Mycroft was finally done. As he stood up and walked over to us, his stormy expression made me gulp. "Well, I have it, now. This better have been worth it," he hissed quietly at the elder Winchester.

Dean simply smiled at the man. "Yep. Now, show it to us."

Mycroft unwillingly pulled his shirt down to reveal the strange symbol, newly tattooed onto his chest. Dean smirked. "Looking good. Now let's roll."

The four of us walked out of the parlour and started walking down the street to Speedy's. "What now?" I asked. "More of the wait, listen, and watch thing?"

The Doctor glanced down at me, and grinned. "Well, naturally! Just you wait, Natalie. We'll figure this out."

* * *

A/N

Thank you to all my reviewers! I'm glad you're enjoying this story :) Don't worry. Things will slowly start being revealed in later chapters. This story will take a long time to complete because of all the things I'm planning to do.

I'll have the next chapter up soon.

Please review!

~Eva Sirico~


	3. Pie's the Word

**Disclaimer: I do not own any shows mentioned**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

**Pie's the Word**

As soon as we arrived back at Speedy's, Dean immediately ordered a pie. Liking this idea, I put in an order for a chocolate cream pie. The owner was a little disgruntled at this, but we wanted our pie, so he acquiesced and began to make them. Examining the menu, I raised an eyebrow and grinned at one of the sandwiches on the menu.

Turning back to where everyone was congregated around the tables, I called, "Hey! Sherlock! Since when do you have a sandwich named after you?"

Sherlock scowled and muttered something under his breath, while John and Dean grinned. "They called it after him after he solved the Hounds of Baskerville case. It's actually pretty good," John told me, coming to stand next to me.

On my other side, Dean was examining what the sandwich consisted of. "Hey, it has bacon!"

"I want to try one!" Dean and I said at the same time. Glancing at each other, we both grinned and high-fived before turning back to the counter. "Hey, Speedy!"

Later, when we were sitting around the tables, I found myself on one side of the angel Cas and on the other side of Dean, who firmly insisted that pie-buddies had to stick together. The Sherlock Wrap had turned out to be absolutely delicious, to which Sherlock had scowled even more at that, and Mycroft rolled his eyes at our 'childishness'. Right now I was eating a slice of chocolate cream pie, while Dean was working his way through a lemon chess pie.

"Pie's the word," I muttered, shoving another forkful in my mouth.

Dean grunted in agreement, while the Doctor looked on in amusement. "Well," Sam said, glancing up from his laptop. "Just give Natalie a piece of chocolate cream pie and she'll start to show her personality."

I just laughed at that and continued eating. I found myself relaxing around these motley people and starting to have fun. Dean could be serious, but he also liked to have fun. His best friend was Cas the angel, and he was very close with his brother, Sam. Mycroft seemed to have ice around his heart, and pretended to be irritated, but I could tell that he was actually rather amused by Dean and I. Sherlock had been deep in thought this whole time, while John was talking with the Doctor, and Sam researched on his laptop.

I was having fun.

The door opened, and a boy maybe one or two years younger than I walked in, carrying a bag that smelled like freshly baked bread. Everyone glanced up as he walked over. "Yo, Peeta!" Dean called, his mouth full.

Peeta sat down in the free chair next to Sam. "Hey," he said, glancing around before his eyes settled on me. "Who're you?"

"Natalie," I said. "I'm working on the case now." I hesitated. "Don't you own that bakery across from that clothing store?"

Peeta nodded. "Yeah, I've seen you around before. Nice to meet you officially."

"Nice to meet you too," I said, pushing my half-eaten pie away. I would save it for later.

"Now, everyone is here," Mycroft stated, standing up, turning his attention to Sam. "Anything?"

He shook his head, putting down his beer. "They seem to be laying low right now. I can't find anything."

"Keep looking, Sammy," Dean ordered, taking a swig of his own beer. "They can't lay low forever."

"...I _am_, Dean," Sam said, exasperated.

"Perhaps we're looking at this wrong," I suggested, leaning back in my chair. "What if they're waiting for us to make the first move? Kind of like chess."

Sherlock blinked. "Brilliant."

"Fantastic," the Doctor agreed, beaming at me and clapping me on the shoulder.

Dean blinked. "...I'm lost."

"Well, demons are of Hell, right?" I asked. "Sooo couldn't they think of themselves as the black pieces, and us the white? White always makes the first move in chess."

"So it's one big game," Sam reasoned.

"A great game," Sherlock said quietly, and he and John exchanged dark looks.

"It couldn't be," John argued. "He doesn't control Hell."

"You're right, it couldn't be," Sherlock murmured, steepling his fingers underneath his chin, deep in thought.

My phone rang at that moment. "Excuse me," I said quickly, walking outside to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hey, Nat!" Cal's voice floated through the speakers. "How are ya?"

"Fine. Remember how I told you Sherlock and John asked me for help? Well...I'm kinda with them and others right now, working on the case." I let out a whoosh of breath and glanced around. It was dark out, and I felt like someone was watching me. Uneasily looking around, I couldn't see anyone, so I shrugged it off.

"Really?" Cal asked. "Wicked! What's the case?"

My mind drew a blank. There was no way that my brother would believe me. "Erm, it's kind of classified. Sorry, Cal."

"That's alright," Cal replied, disappointed. "I was just checking in on my little sister, that's all."

"How was your concert?" I asked, remembering that he had a concert the previous day.

"It went great. A lot of important people showed up, and I rocked on my timpani solo."

"Awesome. Hey, Cal? I gotta go. Thanks for calling." The prickling feeling intensified, and I started to grow afraid.

"Alright, Nat. I'll talk to you later. Love you, bye."

"Bye, Cal." I hung up and nearly ran inside Speedy's. The Doctor, who was examining some magazines on a stand, frowned at my hasty entrance. "What's wrong?"

I shrugged, my heart beginning to calm down. "I just felt like someone was watching me, so I freaked." I held up my phone. "It was just my brother, Cal. Sorry about that."

"No, it's fine. Family. Got it," the Doctor said, nodding. I couldn't help notice a flicker of sadness passing through his face, and I bit my lip. I wanted to ask, but decided not to be rude. I didn't know the Time Lord well enough to ask that yet.

"Oi! Nat!" Dean called, and I turned to see him waving his fork at me. "Are you going to eat the rest of your pie?"

I was about to reply in the affirmative, when I noticed his hopeful face. I deflated. "No, you can have it."

Grinning from ear to ear, Dean pulled the pie towards him and began eating it. I looked away and walked over to the other Winchester, Sam, just as he sighed and closed his laptop. "Nothing," he said shortly, glancing up at me. "If we're going to do something, it's not going to be through a laptop at this point."

"I say that we reconvene tomorrow," the Doctor announced, glancing over at me. "Poor Nat over here looks like she's about to fall asleep standing up!"

Everyone glanced at me, and I smiled sheepishly. "I _am _a little tired."

"Settled! Go home, all you humans, and get some rest." The Doctor started to shoo all of us 'humans' towards the door, and I noticed that Speedy looked relieved at the thought of us leaving his diner.

As everyone gathered outside, Sherlock and John said goodbye and walked into their flat. Mycroft left in a fancy black car, while Peeta started walking with Sam towards the Impala. Dean touched my arm. "Do you need a ride?"

"Please," I admitted, and the four of us climbed into the Impala. Talk was next to nothing on the way back to mine and Peeta's street. All of us were tired from the events of the day. When we finally did reach the street, I said my goodbyes. They promised to pick me up after my shift from work to continue working on the case. Peeta also said goodbye, and I walked into my flat.

I turned on the light, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a tall man stand up. With a large gasp, I whirled around to see a buff man wearing dog tags over a white shirt and camoflague pants. He raised a handgun and walked over to me, where I stood frozen.

"Boss wants to see you," he informed me as he came closer. Snapping to, I turned to run, but I felt something hard hit my head. Everything went dark.

* * *

A/N

Thank you to my wonderful reviewers! :) Like it? Love it? Leave me a review to tell me!

~Eva Sirico~


End file.
